cabinpres_fic: (Default)
cabinpres_fic ([personal profile] cabinpres_fic) wrote2012-05-29 05:28 am

Prompting Post V

Please see the most recent MOD NOTE and ADDENDUM

(updated 5 July)

Welcome everybody. How you got here I have no idea but thank you for coming and welcome again, nonetheless . As you may have gathered this is a Fic Prompting Meme dedicated solely to the hilarious and oh-so-addictive BBC Radio 4 sitcom - Cabin Pressure. I'm aiming for this to be pretty anything goes - but in order for everything to run smoothly, there are a few guidelines. Don't worry - they're not too restrictive.


As you probably all know - our meme now has it's very own database created and maintained by the great Enigel. It both catalogues each and every prompt that we post and provides links to fills. You can find it here: Google Spreadsheet

We also have a Pinboard archive which has been put in place by the lovely [personal profile] oxfordtweed in the place of our late Delicious Archive. This Archive contains a list of all the prompts this meme has to offer - you can find it here: Pinboard Archive

This is a great step forward in making our meme just a little more organised (but not too organised of course. This is Cabin Pressure) which is always a good thing.

So in order to make things easier to archive - Please nest your fills.

This can be done by either posting each part as a reply to that part's immediate predecessor, OR by replying each time to Part I OR - well you get the idea :D

It makes it simpler for Enigel and myself to link fills in a clean and clear manner. Following these guildelines will be very much appreciated guys :D


Reprompting is allowed but please include the URL of the original prompt when you do so. It will make it infinitely more easy to Archive which would make both Enigel and I very happy :)

As for everything else

  1. Be respectful to one another. Disagreements are fine, but not everything disagreeable is trolling. If you suspect someone of trolling, just ignore it. If you cannot respond to a comment without attacking or trolling someone else, keep it to yourself.

  2. No bashing prompts. It might not be your cup of tea - but obviously someone wants it enough to go to the effort of requesting it. So just scroll past it.

  3. Prompt away as much as you like guys - seriously, go wild - but please try to fill as well.

  4. NEW - If your fill includes a major element that veers from the original prompt (crossovers, established universes, kinks, et cetera), please take a few moments to check with the OP that such additions are welcome. This has caused problems in the past and it only takes a few moments of your time.
  5. Please no RPF. I'm not trying to oppress you RPF writers and enthusiasts, I would just really like to avoid any legal problems.

  6. When you post a fill (or post a new part of a WIP) please go over to the Filled Prompts Post (if it is complete) or the WIP Post (if there are still more parts to come) and, following each post's guideline's, post a link to this fill or new part.


According to numerous Child Safety laws it is illegal to provide pornographic material to minors. Seeing that the majority of the stuff we have here is rather adult in nature, this Meme is consequently an 18+ zone. Failing to comply to this rule could result in the Meme getting shut down. So if you're here and you're under 18 please back button now.

+ Please do not post anything regarding minors in a sexual situation. It really doesn't matter how tasteful or crass it is, there are laws that classify that sort of thing as child pornography and as such, I'm afraid we're going to have to go with the attitude that safe is better than sorry.

It really is VERY important that these rules are upheld as the consequences are severe.

Other than that - go crazy guys. Any problems please just message me and I'll try my best to work it out.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Prompt Index

Current Prompt Post | Current Chatter Post | WIP Post | Filled Prompts Post | Searching Post | Orphan Post | Page-a-Mod Post | FAQ | Beta/Concrit Post
[ profile]cabin_pressure @ LJ | Cabin Pressure @ AO3 | IRC Chat @ #FittonATC

The Flirting War.

(Anonymous) 2012-07-03 08:02 pm (UTC)(link)
On long cargo flights, Douglas, Martin (and possibly Arthur) start playing a game of flirting with each other. It gets more intense and detailed over time.

It takes a long time before they realize it was never really a game.

Re: The Flirting War.

[personal profile] egli 2012-07-03 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)

Re: The Flirting War.

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-03 22:36 (UTC) - Expand

Re: The Flirting War.

(Anonymous) - 2012-11-08 01:02 (UTC) - Expand

Survivor's guilt.

(Anonymous) 2012-07-03 08:28 pm (UTC)(link)
GERTI finally gives up the ghost and crashes. Only one member of MJN survives.

Who is it? How is their life changed by the crash? Who do they believe should be alive instead?

Multi-fills welcome.

(and if inspiration is needed: )

FILL: Left Behind (1/?)

(Anonymous) 2012-07-03 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)
At first, the entirety of the situation didn't register. But that was the work of the morphine.

At first it wasn't so enormous, being told with a head fuzzy from from drugs and still reeling from being alive. But after it sunk in, he wished he wasn't.

The only survivor. The only survivor.
That meant the rest of MJN was gone. All of them. Gone.
But-but, no. How? It just wasn't- it just didn't-
No. Not Possible.

At first he was in denial.
Then came the pain.
The slamming weight of reality and the devastating sense of loss. It was almost too much, and he ended up collapsing on the spot, letting the solid impact of floor inform him that he wasn't in some twisted nightmare. This was real. It was real and it was destroying. It rent his heart and soul into shreds and threw them to the wind, uncaring of the damage it left in it's wake.

The pain was a terrible time. Terrible in what it did to him, but oh so good in how it made him feel. Because feeling pain, suffering, meant he was paying his due, at least in part, for surviving. Living while they did not.

In this time, why God, why was a constant buzzing question, searing in the wake of being forever unanswered.

With the pain, came guilt. Riding tall and overwhelming to see, on the back of a steed made of disaster and grief. The guilt of still walking the earth. The bold sense of wrongness. Because MJN was a family, not a business. And family is meant to stick together. He should've gone with them, or they should be here with him. Or better yet, he should be gone and they should be here. God knows they were all better people than he could ever hope to become. His mental process had simplified into repeated variations of these thoughts.
Survivor's guilt, they called it. He couldn't give a fuck regardless.

After the pain and guilt and too much fucking feeling, was the numbness. Heavy and thick, it swallowed him in it's fog. Enticing and all too full of temptation, it coaxed him into it's arms, drowning him in nothingness and lethargy. He was worlds away, staring at the ceiling, letting the darkness creep over him like a spider's web.
Sometimes the numbness spoke. It whispered sweet promises of flying again. Of being with them again. But even in his frozen state, he knew better than to give in. Flying was for aeroplanes, not bodies, and he doubted they'd be pleased to see him so soon.

Some days, it was all too much. He would feel the almost irresistible pull of the bottle or a desire for relief at the end of a needle. Or at least a pack of cigarettes.
Some days, he just wanted to put a bullet in his head. But those were by far the worst and rarest of days.

Time heals everything, they say. Bullshit is his opinion on the matter. Time hasn't healed it, and he doubts it ever will, but he's better, at least.

The pain has ebbed, and the guilt has lessened, and he continues as best as he can. Got a job, went on dates, did whatever took his fancy. A walk, a bite to eat. But he didn't fly. He never flew. It would be too sharp a reminder of how much he had lost. And how much could go wrong.

And of course, there were always reminders. Little things that sent a pang through his heart. That made him yearn for the best thing he had once had. Yellow cars, otters, lemons, Toblerones....they made him wince.

He tried his best and carried on, a soldier back from war, and most days he succeeded. But at night, nearly every one, he would find himself jolting awake, tasting his tears as he screamed for them, their names stuck in his throat in one last desperate cry.

(I have an idea for a second part. Continue?)

Re: FILL: Left Behind (1/?)

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Re: FILL: Left Behind (1/?)

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Re: FILL: Left Behind (1/?)

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FILL: Left Behind (2/2)

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-04 04:27 (UTC) - Expand

Re: FILL: Left Behind (2/2)

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Martin/Arthur and the cheese tray

(Anonymous) 2012-07-03 08:29 pm (UTC)(link)
I would like this to be the early stages of established relationship for Martin/Arthur. And Douglas gets really annoyed because Martin is completely disrupting the alpha-beta-omega dogs dynamic they have with the cheese tray! Martin starts giving Arthur a lot of the best bits and unhappy Douglas lectures them on African hunting dog heirarchy. I would, however, appreciate a bit of Martin/Arthur fluff!

Re: Martin/Arthur and the cheese tray

[identity profile] 2012-07-03 09:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Gawwww. :) Yes please.


(Anonymous) 2012-07-03 08:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Douglas sits in the crowded club, smugly certain that the other Doms he could see were jealous of his boys. After all, none of the other subs looked so relaxed in just a collar and a smile as Martin and Arthur did.

[identity profile] 2012-07-03 09:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Herc sees Linda as his daughter/little sister/ward; he's protective of her.

I have to say, Linda's really grown on me. Hope she comes back.
branwyn: (Default)

[personal profile] branwyn 2012-07-03 11:15 pm (UTC)(link)

Have you seen Arthur?

(Anonymous) 2012-07-03 10:28 pm (UTC)(link)
In a foreign city where none of them, not even Douglas, knows the language, Arthur gets upset by a hard day, a big mistake, and Douglas and Martin sniping at him and each other in the tiny hotel room.

Distressed, Arthur leaves, slipping out while Douglas and Martin are arguing. After a while, They stop arguing and notice he's gone, but figure he's not gone far and will be back. After a few hours, they search the hotel. After midnight, they start searching the streets and consider calling the police or hospitals, imagining all the horrific things that could've happened to Arthur, alone and upset in a foreign city.

Up to the filler if any of those horrific things have actually happened, or if Arthur's been safe the whole time.

When they find him, however they find him Douglas and Martin apologize.

TLDR: Arthur goes missing in a foreign city when Douglas and Martin are frustrated with him.

Re: Have you seen Arthur?

(Anonymous) 2012-07-03 10:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh my goodness, I love this so much. I would like to give it a try, but i would seriously be a first-timer, so I hope that A) someone else is up to the challenge too and B) OP doesn't mind multiple fills. This prompt is just so good that it made me want to try my hand at writing!

Living with Martin (at least you can say It'd be fun)

(Anonymous) 2012-07-03 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
You are one of the student's living with Martin in the shared house
how do you get on with Marin? (or any of the MJN crew if they happen to stop by)
Do you help him in any way?
Do you flirt with him?
(because to be honest even though he'd make a fool of himself -and knock over a pan or two off a shelf for good measure- he's pretty damn cute amirite?! ^-^)
branwyn: (Default)

I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

[personal profile] branwyn 2012-07-04 07:56 pm (UTC)(link)
I actually find myself really annoying as a fictional character.


24. self insert fill

Martin awoke to the sound of a fist banging against his door. He jerked, startled out of his doze, and a fat copy of Murder On the Orient Express fell from his limp hand.

"Martin, goddammit." The person at his door wasn't shouting precisely, but there was a tight coil of frustration in her voice. "Your light is on, I know you're awake."

From the air vent beside his bed, Martin hears the rising strains of dub step, shrieking laughter, and then a faint shattering sound of broken gas. Right, it was Saturday, wasn't it? He should have been expecting this, only crossing the international date line three times that week had left him a bit confused. He glanced around the room quickly, checking for stray underwear or moldy dishes lying about, then opened the door.

"Oh, thank fuck." Branwyn pushed past him into the room, clutching her laptop to her chest. "Here." She thrust a large bottle of vodka into his hands, then stooped to pick up a two liter bottle of ginger ale from the floor. "I have a moral obligation to drink until I pass out tonight. It's the only thing that going to keep me from burning down the house down with everyone in it."

"It's not that bad," Martin chided, hiding a smile. "At least this lot actually pick up after themselves the next day. You should have been here a year ago."

"I hated college students back when I was a college student." Branwyn began rummaging through Martin's small collection of dishes until she located two clean glasses. "My friends and I got decently, quietly hammered in our rooms and held protracted debates on the existence of God. I didn't invite twenty people over to watch me do Jello shots off my roommate's navel, for Christ's sake."

Martin blinked, trying to clear away the mental image her words created. "What's Jello again?"

"You know perfectly well. You made me explain last week."

"Heh, sorry." Martin smiled, as Branwyn poured lethal doses of vodka into each glass and topped them off with splashes of ginger ale. "I sort of like hearing you say it in your accent. You put all sorts of…extra syllables into things."

"Whatever, aluminium."

"That didn't make any sense, are you sure you're not drunk already?"

"Luckily for everyone, I actually get less belligerent when I drink." Branwyn handed him the glasses, then held her own up for a toast. "Cheers. To being the only adults in this overgrown daycare center."

"Cheers. And it's nursery school, here."

Branwyn scowled and poured half the glass down her throat. Martin's eyes watered just looking at her. He took a more cautious sip of his own drink and set it aside.

Martin had first met Branwyn a few months ago, the day she moved into the house. Martin had been returning from a brief flight to Paris, and had paused upon exiting his van at the sight of an unfamiliar woman attempting to lug two suitcases, a shoulder bag, a briefcase, and an overflowing laundry basket through the front door all at once. She'd smiled at him, politely but incredulously, when he offered to take some of the luggage off her hands, and Martin had managed to stammer out the explanation that he actually lived here, and wasn't just an inexplicable man in a captain's uniform following women down their front walks.

"You really live here?" she'd said.


"How old are you?"

Americans, Martin had thought. "Th-thirty four."

"Oh, thank you, Lord," she'd exclaimed, lifting her face briefly to the heavens. "They said it was all teenagers. I thought I was gonna be the only person here who could remember the Challenger exploding. Um, if you'd get the basket, that would be great, thanks."

Branwyn was a novelist, she'd explained, which was, apparently, not the get-rich-quick scheme that J.K. Rowling made it look like. "I got ten grand for my first book," she'd told him, over a cup of tea in Martin's attic that evening. "Which I pretty much used up moving to England and trying to live in London for six months. And then I thought, this is stupid, England's about five miles wide, I can hop a train if I need to reach civilization. So I picked a random hole-in-the-wall off the map and checked the apartment listings. Sorry, flat listings. This place is cheap enough I don't have to work at a pub for cash under the table just to keep myself Pilot Precise fine points and moleskines."

Martin found her a bit strange at first, and her company was something of an acquired taste, but she didn't loom or glower at him like she did the students, and unlike most people who found out about his…arrangement with Carolyn, she didn't seem to think it was strange that he was willing to work for free. "I'm hardly in a position to criticize," she pointed out. "I'm thirty, and I just sold my first book last year. I've been writing novels since I was sixteen, for bupkis. Having a mission in life is its own reward, I reckon."

They didn't see too much of each other, as Branwyn spent her days writing on the terrace of a local cafe ("my office", she called it) and Martin had two jobs to keep him occupied. But every time the students had a weekend party, which was nearly every weekend, Branwyn eventually made her way up to his room, with an offering of alcohol or takeaway, and they sat side by side on his narrow bed and watched QI on her laptop. Branwyn told him stories about growing up around swamps and hurricanes and truly frightening wildlife, and Martin told her stories about MJN. She seemed to enjoy them, and Martin enjoyed having an audience, except for the rather alarming fact that she seemed to be developing a crush on Douglas without ever having met him.

"So, um. How's the novel coming?" Martin asked, halfway through their second drink.

Branwyn snorted. "Speaking of setting things on fire."

"That bad?"

"No, I mean I'm literally about to make one of the characters set the house on fire. Three chapters in a row, they've been sitting around in a room, drinking coffee and talking about what they're going to do next, and it looks like the only way I'm ever going to get them out of there is if their only other option is death." Branwyn set her glass on the window sill. "What about you, how are…planes?"

"We've been all over, this week. Russia, India, Canada. Douglas and I ran out of word games on the last return trip, we had to fall back on Mornington Crescent."

"Some fucker tried to play that shit with me last week. He just figured I wouldn't know the rules because I was American. I was like, we have the internet in the states, dude."

Martin arched an eyebrow over the rim of his glass. "You really do swear a lot. Is that because you're a yank?"

"Nah, it's cause I grew up Baptist. Hey, can I put the window up?"

"Oooh." Martin glanced at the door furtively. "We really shouldn't, the landlord will fine us if he finds out."

"Even if he shows up tonight, he's going to be too busy yelling at Rory's friends for peeing in the rose bushes. Here." Branwyn extracted a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one, then handed it to Martin, before lighting one for herself. "Anyway, Laura's friends are toking up in the bathroom downstairs."

"Damn." Martin inhaled and shut his eyes as the nicotine filled his head, making his vision swim. "I should have a word with her."

"Be my guest. The last time I asked her to do her dishes before they developed sentient life, she told me I wasn't her mum." Branwyn flicked ash out of the window. "As though any child of mine would survive to adulthood without basic housekeeping skills."

"She's just scared of you, you know. They all are, you're…scary."

"Oh, really."

"You're tall, you always wear black, you use big words."

"The fuck I do."

"When you're not swearing, anyway. You carry a knife, for God's sake."

"It is a Swiss army knife, not a…machete! Anyway, I only use it to slice apples and open beer." She frowned at him. "Are you scared of me?"


"I'm nice to you! I brought you vodka."

"Which I was too frightened not to drink." Martin polished off the rest of his glass, to make his point, and Branwyn refilled it, this time skipping the ginger ale, and topped up her own glass.

"I bet Douglas wouldn't be scared of me." She nudged his ankle with her toe. "What do you think?"

Martin groaned. "Not this again. This is like you trying to get me to set you up with my dad, you realize."

"Not interested. Not if he's as short as you."


"It's fine." She patted his wrist fondly. "Lots of people love tiny men. You're very attractive. Probably."

"You're not helping."

Branwyn moped into her glass. "I bet Douglas likes petite, posh women. With little bird wrists and hair salon bills that rival the GNP of developing nations."

"That does sound a bit like his last wife, actually," Martin admitted. "She cheated on him though, so he might be off posh women. That would be good news for you."

"Hang on, I'm trying to be insulted. Almost there--no, sorry, can't help you."

"If you're really that keen, you could come to the airfield with me next week. We're on standby, which is a load of sitting around while Douglas gets paid to do nothing. He'd probably be up for it just to relieve the boredom."

"Oh good God, I'm not looking for a quick screw. I can get that anywhere."

"Lucky you."

"I just want to meet someone who's read Proust. Is that too much to ask?"

"There's probably a website for that."

Branwyn flopped over sideways, angling her head on Martin's pillow. "Just an expression. I hate Proust."

Martin smiled, then levered himself off the bed and ran a glass of water. He carried it over and handed it to Branwyn, who pushed herself up on an elbow to drink it.

"Monday morning, bright and early," he said. "I'll tell Douglas you're a literary genius with a fondness for clever, paunchy, middle-aged men. Make yourself smart. You can wear something…black."

Branwyn beamed at him. "I'll do a survey of all my friends and find out which ones have a secret uniform fetish. There's bound to be at least one. Especially if I advertise on my blog."

"Oh God, don't do that." Martin paused. "…Yet."

Branwyn gave a jaw-cracking yawn, then pushed herself to her feet. "Okay, time for me to go to bed. Although I think I'm going to have to put the fear of God into the children, if I'm going to get any sleep." She paused. "Maybe I'll just put a chair through their speaker."

Martin surveyed the half empty bottle of vodka. It occurred to him that he actually really, really hated dub step. "Or you could…set them all on fire?"

"Capital notion, Captain Crieff. I'll bring the matches?"

"I'll bring the fire extinguisher."

Re: I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

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Re: I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

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Re: I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

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Re: I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

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Re: I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

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Re: I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

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Re: I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

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Re: I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

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Re: I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

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Re: I can't believe I'm actually FILLING this.

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-05 20:12 (UTC) - Expand

OP Here

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-05 21:35 (UTC) - Expand

Re: OP Here

[personal profile] branwyn - 2012-07-05 22:26 (UTC) - Expand


(Anonymous) - 2012-07-05 21:38 (UTC) - Expand

Now I'm going to hide forever.

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-05 03:27 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Now I'm going to hide forever.

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Re: Now I'm going to hide forever.

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-05 03:56 (UTC) - Expand

OP Here

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-05 21:45 (UTC) - Expand

FILL: Untitled for now, I s'pose - 1/1?

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Re: FILL: Untitled for now, I s'pose - 1/1?

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Re: FILL: Untitled for now, I s'pose - 1/1?

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OP here

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Of Awkward Conversations

[personal profile] annievh - 2012-07-07 03:05 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Of Awkward Conversations

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Re: Of Awkward Conversations

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Re: Of Awkward Conversations

[personal profile] annievh - 2012-07-23 13:40 (UTC) - Expand

FILL: Untitled for now, I s'pose - 2a/?

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-23 09:33 (UTC) - Expand

FILL: Untitled for now, I s'pose - 2b/?

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Re: FILL: Untitled for now, I s'pose - 2b/?

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Re: Mixed

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Re: Mixed

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Re: Mixed

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Re: Mixed

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FILL: Untitled for now, I s'pose - 3/?

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-26 23:57 (UTC) - Expand

FILL: Taguig (Part 1/2)

(Anonymous) - 2013-02-25 11:13 (UTC) - Expand

(X-over) Two for the price of one...Unfortunately.

(Anonymous) 2012-07-03 11:42 pm (UTC)(link)
So Douglas and Martin have heard all about Arthur's "brilliant!" cousin who is a priest.

One day they walk into the portacabin to find a priest sitting there happily chatting away with Arthur, who introduces the man as his cousin: Father Dougal MacGuire. Even worse, it turns out they've been chartered to take him and his housemates back to Craggy Island.

How will Douglas and Martin survive a flight with TWO Arthur's, a rather feral old priest, a somewhat insistant housekeeper and a priest who seems normal enough until he starts kissing up to Carolyn.

Re: (X-over) Two for the price of one...Unfortunately.

(Anonymous) 2012-07-03 11:51 pm (UTC)(link)
I LOVE THIS SO MUUUCH. I saw a crossover prompt for this earlier, which I think is still unfilled, but I absolutely love what you've added here. It just... makes so much SENSE!! I like him as a cousin, and they look enough alike for it to be believable. Ahahahaha! I think I'll watch a couple episodes as inspiration. Oh, the possibilities are endless for this crossover.

OP: this is awesome.

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Re: (X-over) Two for the price of one...Unfortunately.

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The Crieff's have a dark secret

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
In every generation there is a child born to take on all the bad luck of the family. It allowed the family to thrive, if not exactly prosper.

In earlier times the child would simply have been shut up in a room and all but forgotten by the rest of the family, aside from making sure the child survived until the next generation's bad luck child was born. in these modern times, however, there are people who keep track of children born and the child couldn't just be swept under the rug. He had to be allowed to attend school at least.

Martin's parents tried to discourage his dreams, not because he was stupid or any of that, but because he is the latest bad luck child. His brother and sister never knew, though they had often commented on how everything that would go wrong would happen to Martin.

It's how he ended up at MJN, with a van that barely runs, a roof over his head that only keeps out the wind and rain on alternate 31st of the month and always on the edge of starvation, despite his man with a van buisiness.

Re: The Crieff's have a dark secret

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 12:00 am (UTC)(link)

Forgot to add: it's also the biggest source of his romantic troubles.

Re: The Crieff's have a dark secret

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-04 00:08 (UTC) - Expand

Re: The Crieff's have a dark secret

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-07 15:02 (UTC) - Expand

Douglas the MJN chaperone.

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
MJN lands in some country in the middle of an enormous drinking festival and has two full days before they'll need to leave since their client is staying the whole time.

Freed of responsibilities, Martin, Carolyn and even Arthur partake in the festivities, leaving Douglas as the sober responsible one, getting them out of scrapes, pulling them down from public edifices, driving them around in a cheap rental car while they hang out the windows whooping and carrying on.

Douglas has honestly never had more fun in his life.

Re: Douglas the MJN chaperone.

[personal profile] telm_393 2012-07-04 01:16 am (UTC)(link)
Oh. My. Gosh. This prompt gives me so many warm and fuzzy feelings. Please, somebody fill!

(Also: I bet this could be Oktoberfest.)

Re: Douglas the MJN chaperone.

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-04 01:19 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Douglas the MJN chaperone.

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-04 01:22 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Douglas the MJN chaperone.

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-04 03:15 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Douglas the MJN chaperone.

[personal profile] chess_ka - 2012-07-04 23:09 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Douglas the MJN chaperone.

(Anonymous) - 2013-01-02 06:58 (UTC) - Expand

Hot weather (art?)

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 12:59 am (UTC)(link)
Everyone trying to keep cool, either in a hot location or during an uncharacteristic Fitton heat wave. Wading pools, fans, swimming trunks and sunburns everywhere.

Fill: The hottest week since records began. Monday 1/5

(Anonymous) 2012-08-06 12:37 am (UTC)(link)
Sorry no art. My original plan had been to do these as a series of postcard images with the text as over long accompanying captions, but I only got one sketch even started. I'm not going to get any time in the next couple of month to work on anything more so I'm posting this now to draw a line under it. I'm not really happy with it and I'm still not sure it makes sense but here goes :

To Carolyn it seemed she had spent a week chasing her crew across the airfield.


On Monday, the coolest day of the week, she'd found them lounging on top of the baggage trucks. The pilots had their shirts off and slathered themselves in sun tan lotion. A few straggling members of the fire crew were there too and she caught sight of a bottle or two of beer before anyone had noticed her and they had promptly vanished.

Arthur had stripped down to his underwear and had turned his body into a canvas of multi-coloured zinc sunblock. His left arm was all spirals and swirls, his right was crude zig-zags, his chest a night sky of stars, one leg had a giraffe pattern done in vivid pink and blue and the other leg covered in green flames. He was lying on his front with Douglas painting a day-glo version of Turners 'Storm Coming On' with his fingers on his back while Martin held up his chin and painted a version of jungle camouflage using red, yellow and orange.

When she eventually persuaded them back into their clothes and then back into the office Arthur revealed that the face paint was water proof and no amount of scrubbing could remove it.

Carolyn hoped the client wouldn't call.

Fill: The hottest week since records began. Tuesday 2/5

(Anonymous) - 2012-08-06 00:41 (UTC) - Expand

Fill: The hottest week since records began. Friday 5/5

(Anonymous) - 2012-08-06 01:10 (UTC) - Expand

Buffy blend.

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 01:24 am (UTC)(link)
Herc is a Watcher. (Maybe even related to Giles)

Linda is a really really late-blooming Slayer.

So is Arthur.

Re: Buffy blend.

[personal profile] citruspocket 2012-07-04 07:58 am (UTC)(link)
Ahh, seconded. I really like Linda.

Martin: Do you like... anything?

Linda: Do I like anything?! Well, I’m a Slayer, if that’s the sort of thing you mean?

Re: Buffy blend.

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-04 08:02 (UTC) - Expand
annievh: (Default)

Criminal Minds x-over

[personal profile] annievh 2012-07-04 01:58 am (UTC)(link)
Since we're talking serial killers...

The BAU Jet broke. They have to hire MJN air to fly them somewhere. Arthur is distressed at the case file pictures. Hotch is distressed Carolyn refuses to do as he demands. Douglas calls boy genius for a bet. Boy genius sides with Martin.

Gen, please.

Re: Criminal Minds x-over

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 02:11 am (UTC)(link)

Re: Criminal Minds x-over

[personal profile] mycroftss - 2012-07-04 15:58 (UTC) - Expand

denial (warning, alzheimers)

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
Carolyn is starting to forget things, become disoriented, and getting angry that people seem to be lying to her all the time about things they've told her that she doesn't remember. Her doctor diagnoses her as having the beginning stages of Alzheimer's. She refuses to believe it and carries on.

Everyone tries to shift things so she doesn't need to be in charge of day to day operations while still maintaining her being the CEO of MJN, but they all think she should step down and retire, for her own sake.

All except Arthur. Arthur won't let them. His mum is fine. Just tired. There's nothing wrong with her. DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT ABOUT MUM!

Acceptance in the end, please.

Repo! The Genetic Opera fusion

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
(For those who don't know what it is, it's a movie-musical about a future dystopia where surgery is in style, but if you can't pay, the Repo Man comes and rips it back. Also, the main anti-hero is played by Anthony Head. So we get Herc singing and bloody. And Paris Hilton's face falls off. Seriously, go watch it xD)

But yeah, a fusion where MJN exists of course, but Martin has a rather ...bloody night job. He's got a separate personality that's one of the best Repo men out there, but Martin himself hates it. All's well, until his next job is a client for MJN and one of the crew catches him repossessing them.


(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
Martin doesn't like being choked because he likes the feeling of choking, he likes being choked because it's his way of showing his partner that he trusts them completely.

short order threesome

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 07:25 am (UTC)(link)
I'd like a hot pilot sandwich with a steward filling, please, and a side of OT3 fluff!

Re: short order threesome

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 04:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Mmm tasty :)

Re: short order threesome

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-04 18:01 (UTC) - Expand

Re: short order threesome

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-06 16:57 (UTC) - Expand


(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 08:04 am (UTC)(link)
The longer between flights, the deeper Martin sinks into depression.

Plan B

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 12:27 pm (UTC)(link)
to get revenge on carolyn, gordon has arthur declared unfit to take care of himself and gordon declared as his guardian.

The Incredible Crieff

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Martin isn't really shy or awkward. He's just scared. He can't angry, you see. You wouldn't like it if he gets angry, because MARTIN SMASH.

Five times when Martin does not smash and one time when he does. :)

Re: The Incredible Crieff

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 03:05 pm (UTC)(link)
*he can't get angry. :) Also, gen or any pairings you want are fine.

Re: The Incredible Crieff

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-04 16:17 (UTC) - Expand

Turning the tables

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 08:00 pm (UTC)(link)
So Douglas wins (almost) every word game they play; he's quick and clever and flusters Martin horribly leaving him stuttering and unable to articulate a good comeback.

However, Martin has found a way to turn the tables - namely some truly pornographic eating habits - tonguing the filling out of creme eggs, finger licking, etc. and don't even mention the ice lolly. All this leaves Douglas uncharacteristically speechless and not a little... uncomfortable ;)

Established relationship or first time, so long as Martin gets to enjoy one-upping Douglas for a change :)

Inspired by a prompt here above - crossover

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 08:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Martin feels lucky because he's started dating this incredibly sweet, shy guy, who is also a genius in physics and biology.
But one day, out of the blue, his boyfriend disappears without giving any clue.
Martin, who is terribly unsure of himself, blames himself for the break-up. Until the day a strange fellow, with an eye-patch, shows at Martin's door, pleading for his help with the huge green creature who wants to smash everything.
Martin wonders what he can do to help, except maybe agreeing to be eaten alive by the green monster, until the creature looks at him, softens his features and re-transforms back into Martin's boyfriend, who by the way is Bruce Banner.

Re: Inspired by a prompt here above - crossover

(Anonymous) 2012-07-04 09:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Seconded! Mark Ruffalo and Benedict Cumberbatch = Thoughts

Re: Inspired by a prompt here above - crossover - OP

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-05 19:11 (UTC) - Expand

Prompt and a self-fill: Go Directly to Jail

[personal profile] pink_dalek 2012-07-04 11:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Here's the prompt:

MJN (or just some of them) get arrested on a minor charge or misunderstanding. Maybe Douglas gets pulled over for speeding and runs his mouth, maybe Martin is just being Martin. Just a few hours to one night in jail. Go for comedy rather than angst. No cavity searches or prison rape, please. Try to give it the feel of a lost episode.

I've already written my own fill, but if anyone else wants to fill too, the more the merrier.

Re: Prompt and a self-fill: Go Directly to Jail (1/2)

[personal profile] pink_dalek 2012-07-04 11:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Las Vegas
Summary: The boys spend the night in jail on a minor charge/misunderstanding. Since I have no firsthand experience of jail and really don’t want to acquire any, I’m working off of what I’ve seen on ‘Las Vegas Jail’ and similar shows.

“I have decided,” Carolyn announced, “that Arthur will be rooming with the two of you when we land.”
The pointy end echoed with the protests of her pilots. “Carolyn, it’s Las Vegas. I refuse to be responsible for any trouble he manages to get into,” Martin told her. “And I’m not sharing a bed with him again. He won’t keep his cold feet off my legs.”

“He’s not sleeping in my bed either,” Douglas said. “It’s like sharing with a hairy octopus. Limbs everywhere.”

“Order a rollaway cot. He loves those. I plan to enjoy Las Vegas, and that’s a little hard to do with Arthur tagging along.”

“This just solidifies my plan to get myself invited into a local bed for the evening,” Douglas said after Carolyn left.

“Leaving me to babysit Arthur. Thanks ever so much, Douglas!”

“Arthur is a grown man—“

“With the mindset of a ten-year-old child. We can’t let him wander around Las Vegas unsupervised.”

“Correction: you can’t leave him wandering around Las Vegas unsupervised.”


Carolyn had booked herself a room at the Bellagio. Her pilots found themselves in a grotty little motel off the Strip.

“I’m not entirely sure this place doesn’t rent rooms by the hour,” Douglas said, looking around doubtfully.

“Leave your bags outside for a minute.” Martin had a penlight out and was looking around the beds and baseboards.

“What are you doing? I’ve had ten hours on the plane and I’d like to get out of this uniform.”

“I’m checking for bedbugs. You missed the last overnight she sent us on. I’m just lucky I spotted them before I brought any home in my suitcase. The landlord would have made me pay for the exterminator.”

“Ah yes. I never imagined I’d be grateful to have the flu.”

Once Martin gave the all-clear, they made their way into the musty room and settled in as best they could, changing into casual clothes. After that, it was out onto the Strip to sightsee.

“Chaps! That casino looks like New York! Brilliant!”
“Wow! That one looks like Venice! Brilliant!”
“Oooh! It’s a pyramid! With a Stinks! Brilliant!”

“A what, Arthur?” Martin asked.

“A Stinks! One of those lion statues with an Egyptian’s head on it.”

“I believe you mean a Sphynx,” Douglas informed him.

“Oh, okay. I wondered why anyone would call them a Stinks, then I thought, they’re really old, so they must smell or something. It’s brilliant that they don’t. Yellow car!”

“Arthur, it’s a taxi. We went over this in New York, remember?” Martin said wearily. “Taxis don’t count in Yellow Car.”

“I thought that was just taxis in New York.”

They ended up wandering into a casino to have dinner at a buffet. Along the way, Arthur dragged Martin through the rows of slot machines, looking for the biggest, shiniest one to try their luck on.

“Arthur, I really don’t want to gamble. If I ever get the urge to gamble, I just flush money down the toilet until the urge goes away. So far, I’ve never wanted to gamble that badly.”

“It’s okay. I have some coins left over from the Miami trip.” Arthur finally found a machine he liked and started feeding it quarters.


Douglas, meanwhile, was chatting up a pretty young thing hanging around the edge of the blackjack tables. He’d gone directly from the second Mrs. Richardson to the third, and after the divorce from Helena, he’d learned that being single in one’s early fifties was very different from being single in one’s early forties. For one thing, pulling wasn’t as easy as it had been before. But this woman seemed genuinely interested in him. “So, do you have a room here?” she finally asked him.

Once again, fate was all too happy to do lovely things for Douglas Richardson. “Give me five minutes and I will have,” he purred. She smiled and slipped her warm hand into his, batting her long eyelashes up at him. Douglas preened, knowing this old Sky God still had it.

Two uniformed security men stepped out of the shadows. “Candee, how many times do we have to kick you out of here?”

“Hey, it’s a free country! I can hang out wherever I want to.”

“Not when you’re working, you can’t.”

“Wait—what? What do you mean? What?” Dear God, Martin was rubbing off on him. They were already slapping handcuffs on the girl, and Douglas felt metal sliding around his wrists as well.

“Sir, you’re under arrest for solicitation.”

“What? No! I wasn’t soliciting! I was chatting her up!” Off to his right, Douglas heard an officious voice and closed his eyes.

“Excuse me, what are you doing?” Martin bustled up to his elbow, puffed up for battle like a bantam rooster.

“Arresting this man for soliciting a prostitute.”

“Douglas? You’re kidding me! This man doesn’t need to pay for it! Women throw themselves at his feet!” The security men looked at the slightly podgy, greying middle-aged man they’d cuffed. One raised an eyebrow. “Look, I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding. We’re here overnight. We’re pilots. I’m Captain Crieff, and this is my first officer.”

“It’ll be sorted out down at the jail. You can pick him up there. Give them a few hours to process him, he’ll be ready to go by morning.”

“I am an airline captain and you cannot arrest this man—“ Douglas groaned and let his chin drop to his chest. It was Boston all over again. Martin kept ranting, digging himself in deeper. “Wait! What? Why?” Martin was being cuffed.

“Interfering with an arrest.”

“I wasn’t interfering, I was explaining why this can’t possibly be what it looks like!”

“That’s for them to sort out at the jail.”

“Oh God!” Martin started panicking. Douglas could hear him hyperventilating. “Oh God! Jail! I’ve never been to jail! I’m an airline captain!” His voice had gone up to a mere squeak by the end.
Douglas sighed. “Martin, just take a deep breath and keep quiet. This isn’t helping.”

“Hi chaps! I won five dollars off the fruit machine! How much is that in pounds again?”

“And neither will this,” he groaned softly.

“Um, Skip, Douglas, why are you wearing handcuffs?”

“They’re taking us to jail!” Martin wailed.

“Oh. Okay, I’ll come along.”

“Sir, you can’t just ‘come along,’” Two policemen had arrived to collect them from casino security.
“I have to!” Arthur held out his wrists. “Please? Pleasepleaseplease?” He turned to Douglas and Martin, sounding a little desperate. “Mum told me to stick with you chaps no matter what!”
Douglas sighed again. “You might as well bring him along. You’ll get no peace otherwise. He’ll probably run alongside the car screaming if you don’t.”

“Brilliant! I’ve never been to jail before!” As they were led out to a waiting patrol car, he started chanting “Attica! Attica!”

“Arthur, shut up!” Douglas told him. On his other side, Martin was keening softly. All was quiet for a few minutes as they rode away.

“Yellow car!”

Re: Prompt and a self-fill: Go Directly to Jail (1/2)

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-05 08:41 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Prompt and a self-fill: Go Directly to Jail (1/2)

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-05 08:50 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Prompt and a self-fill: Go Directly to Jail (1/2)

(Anonymous) - 2012-07-06 07:54 (UTC) - Expand

The Good Luck Curse

(Anonymous) 2012-07-05 01:05 am (UTC)(link)
During a flight some where in England, Martin comes across a Gypsy. He's nice and everything to her, not judging her and just acting like a gentlemen who isn't out to have sex with her. She decides to repay him with a curse.

For one month, Martin is the luckiest man on Earth.

Even if it's minimal luck, like he can pay rent and still have enough money left over to buy some food. Or maybe he wins a small bet against Douglas and get's the cheese tray or something. The luck can't be huge so that when the curse wears out he goes looking for her. The curse works within the financials of the person who's cursed.

(Inspiration for this prompt of the girl who gave the old beggar woman some water at the well, and the woman turned into a fearie and rewarded the girl with the magic spell of whenever she spoke, pearls, jewels, gold and silver, and other treasures would fall from her mouth)

Reverse stockholm syndrome

(Anonymous) 2012-07-05 01:42 am (UTC)(link)
In a small country, Arthur is kidnapped by a small radical political group intent on proving they are serious by holding a British citizen hostage.

After a week, they let Arthur go and all turn themselves in, happy, carefree and dedicated to the search for yellow cars and Toblerones.

Re: Reverse stockholm syndrome

(Anonymous) 2012-07-05 02:48 am (UTC)(link)
aka Lima syndrome: